


Spring Break in Crestwood

by Pixial



Series: Support and Stand [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A bad pun, Alcohol, Anal Sex, Bad Dreams, Biting, Crestwood, Dom/sub Undertones, Dorian is made of salt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fishing, Fluff, Lavellan sandwich, M/M, Minor Angst, Nightmare, Or the male version, Polyamory, Roughhousing, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Tit job, Very drunk elf, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2018-10-03 22:33:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10260224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixial/pseuds/Pixial
Summary: A short collection of fics of the shenanigans Caim, Dorian, and Iron Bull get up to at Caer Bronach while on holiday.





	1. Day One

Caer Bronach loomed over the darkening landscape, its shadow stretching almost to the lake. Its heavy, solid stones were cast in darkness, lit from behind by the dying sun. The walls were well-manned, each soldier keeping a wary eye out for trouble as night began to fall. Above it all, the Inquisition flag flew proudly, an all-seeing eye snapping in the wind and backed by the last few stubborn storm clouds, reminding the countryside of its protector. All in all, it was an impressive, domineering picture.

Inquisitor Caim Lavellan didn't give two shits about that as his horse plodded its way up the path to the gates. It had been a long trip, and the weather had been foul for most of it. He was tired and cold and honestly wasn't sure if he’d ever feel fully dry. This was the first break in the rain he and his two companions had seen in three days. He glanced aside to see how they were faring, and was a bit disgruntled that the Iron Bull looked no more bothered by the rain than he did any other weather. He twisted his lips in a smug smile as he caught the elf’s eye, and Caim made a face. A snort sounded nearby, and he turned further to face Dorian.

“Maddening, isn't it?” the mage asked with a wry grin. He looked about as irritated as Caim felt, but somehow he managed to maintain some semblance of order on his hair. “Here you and I are, wet and miserable, and he’s trotting along without a care.”

“Aw, you two just need to get outdoors more!” Bull proclaimed with a cheery whistle. “A little bit of rain like we’ve had? That’s nothing!”

“Bull, I have spent nearly my entire life outdoors in some manner or other,” Caim replied drily. “Rain is never nothing.” Bull merely replied with a wide grin, and Caim decided convincing him was a lost cause.

“Well I, for one, am _quite_ spoiled, and I am rather eager for a dry room with an actual bed in it,” Dorian huffed, hunched over his horse with an expression of extreme distaste. Caim looked forward to hide a smile; Dorian was precious when his feathers were ruffled. Bull made no attempt to disguise his glee at the mage’s irritation.

“Halt!” commanded a voice from the wall above. “State your name and business!” Caim looked up, spotting the head of the man on the watch tower. This area was supposedly peaceful (or as peaceful as anywhere in Thedas could be), but he was pleased that they hadn't relaxed their guard. That was usually when everything went wrong. 

“Inquisitor Lavellan and party!” he called up. The head vanished below the wall. The three on the ground exchanged looks, waiting patiently for the man to fetch someone with more authority. A few minutes later, the great doors rattled and slowly swung open to release two men, one clad in mail, the other in an Inquisition uniform.

Looking over the mint and not-quite-white (was it ecru? Maybe he would ask Dorian later), Caim made a note to talk to Josephine about possibly designing something a bit more flattering. Or possibly a lot more flattering, he thought as he saw the rank of soldiers lining the entrance.

As Caim contemplated the poor choice in wardrobe design, the first man stepped forward. “My Lord Inquisitor, Captain Jennis at your service,” he said with a crisp salute. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bull nodding in approval. “Welcome to Caer Bronach!”

The second man bowed as they dismounted, and the captain motioned for soldiers to take the horses and packs. “Steward Calvin, my lord. We’ve prepared what we hope are serviceable accommodations for your stay, Your Worship,” he said, a nervous shake evident in his voice. _Poor man,_ thought Caim with a bit of sympathy. _He hasn't been in this position long and now he’s got to deal with me._

“My friend, so long as those accommodations include a bath and a bed, they will be heavenly,” he replied with one of his most disarming smiles. The man relaxed slightly, and Jennis offered his companion a small smile. That was good, Caim noted. The two in charge of the keep seemed to be a functional team. 

“Calvin made sure of that, Your Worship,” he said. “I’d like to stay for the tour, but I’m afraid I need to oversee the changing of the watch.”

“Tour?” Caim asked, his heart sinking as he tried to think of a polite enough excuse to avoid a tour and go straight to that promised bed.

“Of course, Your Worship! We’ve done a great deal to improve the facilities.” The steward’s expression of combined pride and eagerness crumbled his efforts to escape his Inquisitorial duties. Caim sighed internally. Beside him, Dorian let out a low cough of muffled laughter.

“Enjoy your tour, Inquisitor,” he said with an amused gleam in his eye. “I believe we shall take your leave.” Dorian leaned in close and kissed his cheek. “We’ll find you when you’re done.”

Bull came up behind Caim and took advantage of his momentary freeze in the wake of Dorian’s kiss and patted his backside, grinning at the resulting squeak. “Catch you later, Boss.” 

They walked away, and Caim was left staring after them with flushed cheeks. That’s hardly fair, he thought with mingled confusion and affront. He wished dearly to chase after them and demand… Something. He wasn't sure what. Probably something that wouldn't be exactly restful.

“Cor… Are they both _yours_?” a soft voice beside him asked, returning his attention to matters at hand.

“It, ah, would seem so,” he answered faintly, turning to face Calvin.

“If you don't mind my saying so, Your Worship, but if anyone deserves it, it’s you,” Calvin said with earnest eyes.

Caim shook his head at that, rueful humor at his predicament showing. “I know some that would agree,” he replied. “About that tour?”

……………………….

To his credit, Steward Calvin ran a very efficient tour. Whether his efficiency was his usual state of affairs or if he sensed his guest’s exhaustion, Caim didn't know and was grateful either way. Two hours of examining Caer Bronach was about all he could manage even when fully alert.

He bid his host goodnight and followed a servant to his rooms, where a bath was waiting in front of the fireplace. A heartfelt sigh passed his lips, and he wasted no time in stripping and sinking into the steaming water with a groan. The heat leached the aches and cold from his body, leaving only boneless exhaustion behind. 

Which was possibly a problem, he realized, washing himself as quickly as he could manage. Getting out was going to be a challenge. He shrugged and let himself relax. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he simply wanted to enjoy this moment.

He wasn’t aware of falling asleep, but a hand on his shoulder woke him with a start. He reached for the pins in his hair, befuddled for a moment when he found his hair loose and decoration-free. Fortunately, they were unnecessary as it was Bull’s hand on his shoulder.

“Easy, Caim. Just me,” he said. “Didn't think you’d appreciate it if we let you drown on the first night of your holiday.”

“Mm. That would put a damper on the rest of the week.” Caim yawned and was rewarded with a chuckle from the other. 

“Just a bit,” the large warrior agreed. “Think you can get out of there yourself?”

Caim considered the question. It wasn't that long a trip to the bed-- just into the next room, but he felt a bit wobbly just sitting. “There’s only one way to find out,” he said finally, and gripped the edges of the tub to haul himself up. He was pleased when he successfully stood with minimal unsteadiness. Stepping out of the tub, however, was a tad harder. He stumbled, and the next thing he knew he was in Bull’s arms.

“You are very quick,” he remarked with vague surprise. He’d known that, right? He was pretty sure it was old news, but he was too tired to tell.

“I get that a lot,” Bull answered with a soft smile. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed before you break your neck.” He grabbed a large blanket, and once Caim was wrapped his satisfaction, he scooped him up and carried him to the door.

“I am reasonably sure I can walk,” Caim protested mildly even as he snuggled closer. He didn't mind being carried about (at least, not at the moment) but he felt as though he should say something for form’s sake at least.

“Not very fast, though, and Dorian will pout if we keep him waiting much longer,” Bull answered as he shouldered the door open.

“But Dorian’s cute when he pouts.”

“Excuse me, but I do not pout. I might get a bit cross, but I never pout,” the mage called from his spot on the bed, wearing what Caim was fairly certain was considered a pout and a robe. Bull merely favored him with an ironic glance as he set Caim between them. Dorian ignored the glance and scooted closer to Caim’s side. “Have a nice tour?”

“As nice as a tour can be when it’s growing dark and you smell like horse,” Caim answered as he hunkered down beneath the blankets. “Still, the steward knows what he’s doing. He and the captain seem to have this place in order.”

“Always good to know we aren't sitting ducks on vacation,” Bull put in. He settled in and threw a massive arm over the other two. Caim found it wonderfully cozy. There were definitely some perks to this sort of relationship stuff, he decided as he snuggled in.

“I had vague plans for tonight, but…” Caim broke off with a yawn. 

“Don't have the energy?” Dorian supplied.

Caim nodded with apology. “It does seem to be the sort of activity that works better when everyone’s awake.”

“So get some sleep,” Bull suggested. “There’ll be time later.”

“Quite right,” Dorian said, pressing a kiss to Caim’s forehead before leaning over to perform the same to Bull. “We’ll be here in the morning.” 

“Fair point,” Caim agreed as he closed his eyes. His exhaustion slammed into him, and he barely had time to hear the others’ muted goodnights before sleep took him.

………………………………….

Something was tugging on him. Caim scowled and tried to push the offending object away. The tugging barely paused, and he made an attempt to tell it to go away. It ignored him and continued its efforts to rouse him from his sleep. In fact, it seemed more determined than ever, and voices joined its quest.

“Boss, c’mon. Wake up.”

“I don't think that’s going to work, Bull.”

The tugging stopped. Caim was going to count it a victory until the second voice spoke again.

“Oh dear. He is not going to like that.”

Before Caim could figure out what he wasn't going to like, something ripped the covers off the bed. Caim was thrown into wakefulness by the sudden chill. He sat up with an offended glare at Bull, who was holding his blankets and doubled over laughing. 

“Sorry,” Dorian said beside the bed, lips twitching with barely constrained mirth. “But we didn't think you’d thank us for letting you sleep the entire day. You’ve already slept through most of the morning.”

Caim rubbed the sleep from his eyes and nodded. They were right, of course, but he wished they’d been gentler about it.

“In my defense,” Bull said as he got his chortling under control, “we spent a good ten minutes trying to wake you up. You sleep like a rock. Missed the call for breakfast and everything. Saved you a plate, though.”

Caim levelled a look at Bull, but the irritation ran out of him as quickly as it’d started. He stretched and started to shift off the bed before pausing. “Ah, Bull?”

“Yes, Caim?”

“Can I have those blankets back, please? I, um, am a bit… undressed.” He did his best to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks as he pulled his knees to his chest.

“You are at that,” Dorian said. There was the barest hint of a purr in his voice. Caim turned to look at him and felt his face explode into crimson all the way to the tips of his ears. Dorian was _also_ rather undressed, and a closer examination of Bull showed similar results.

“ _Oh_.” The word was little more than a squeak.

“Took you long enough, _amatus_.” Dorian’s eyes danced with a merry light. Caim fought the urge to cover his face; there was no reason for embarrassment! He’d seen them naked before! But right now? Having just woken up himself? He was keenly aware of how beautiful the two men that had captured his heart were, as well as his own lack of makeup and a hair brush. It didn't matter, clearly, not with the way they were looking at him, but.. 

“Give a man time to wake up first!” Caim was dangerously close to whining, but there was laughter in his voice. After all, he’d have done the same if it was one of the others. 

“We thought about that, Boss,” Bull said with a wide grin. “But the look on your face is kinda the reason we didn't.” He dropped the blankets and sat on the edge of the bed and shoved a covered platter his way. “You’re gonna want to eat that before we do anything else.”

Caim shook his head as he took the platter. Lifting the lid revealed a simple breakfast comprised of cheese, bread, and a fruit jam of some sort. He took a bite (the jam was blackcurrant, it turned out) and looked at the other two. “So the plan was to wake me up, nearly give me a heart attack, and then watch me eat?”

“Well we do have steps beyond that, so eat quick,” Dorian replied, scooting over to lean against him. Caim shivered as Dorian’s body pressed into his without a stitch between them. He gulped and devoured the rest of his meal as fast as he could manage without choking. Fortunately, whoever sent it hadn’t decided the Inquisitor needed a three course breakfast.

Bull chuckled, a deep, rich sound that produced another shudder as it rolled over Caim. He shifted around to the elf’s free side, almost looming into his space. “Eager?” he murmured into his ear. Caim made an attempt to control his trembling-- Bull was doing it on purpose, he knew it-- but the attempt was halfhearted at best. He was eager, yes. It’d been a very long while, and now he was faced with the prospect of _both_ the men he loved in his bed at once. Oh he was _very_ eager. 

Dorian hummed beside him and took a hold of his chin, drawing his gaze. “Red’s a good color on you,” he remarked quietly. With that, he tipped Caim’s face up and closed the gap between them with a kiss. It started as a sweet, insistent thing, and Caim allowed Dorian to push him back against Bull. Arms encircled them both, and Caim noted with some humor that Dorian, at least, had taken the time to prepare himself for the day. His skin smelled of of spice, and there was oil in his hair.

“Look at you two,” the large warrior murmured, lust dripping from his voice. “The things I could do to you….” His hand rose up Caim’s shoulders, creating gooseflesh in its wake. His other hand seemed intent on exploring Dorian. He and Dorian broke apart for a breath, though Caim wasn't sure how to breath for a moment. It felt as though he’d forgotten a great deal of what he was supposed to do, in fact. But it didn't seem to matter that he was left in a daze for Dorian gasped and seized his lips once more, licking and nipping until Caim granted him access.

Caim hummed and obeyed, his mouth falling open without hesitation. His tongue brushed Dorian’s, creating tingling shivers along his skin. It occurred to him that he was being rather passive in this, and that didn't suit. He growled softly and pressed back against Dorian, trailing a hand down his firm chest and angling his head to deepen the kiss. 

Dorian laughed breathlessly against his lips before pulling back. Caim whined at the loss, but there was no time to contemplate before Bull was tugging him up to his knees. “My turn,” he growled hungrily before pulling him into a forceful kiss. 

Where Dorian was all flash and tongue teasing, Bull was rough and unyielding, teeth grinding against his lips, demanded surrender. Caim gasped as the hand on his shoulder slid down to cup his ass, squeezing firmly. Caim bit his lip in retaliation, surprising a snort from the other. Caim grinned fiercely, throwing himself into the kiss.

Behind him, he dimly heard Dorian shuffle about. Lithe, slender hands slid up his back and around his chest as the mage embraced him, taking the firm pectorals in his hands and massaging them and brushing his thumbs across his nipples. A low, tight moan escaped Caim, and Dorian laughed as he placed his mouth on his shoulder.

“I take it you like that?” he asked innocently, squeezing harder and wringing out another sound of pleasure.

“V-very… much so…” Caim panted around Bull’s kisses. It was more of a challenge than he would have thought; Bull seemed intent on driving most of the thought from his head. His large hand gripped his thighs, his thumb straying in tiny, slowly widening circles towards his rising cock.

“You planning on doing something back there?” Bull asked, his eye darting over Caim’s shoulder as he pulled away slightly.

“I thought I might, if no one has any objections.”

Bull turned his gaze back to Caim. “Is that what you want? Dorian to fuck you?”

Caim gave him a wry smirk, making an attempt to hold on to at least some semblance of composure. “Honestly… I’d rather have both of you together, b-but we probably ought to work up to that.”

Bull threw his head back and laughed long and loud at that. “You don't think small!”

“Goals are always handy, Bull,” Dorian said archly. “And small is never an option around y- _oh_!” A resounding smack echoed in the room as Dorian yelped. Caim attempted to look behind him, but Bull pulled him back with an extraordinarily satisfied expression. Dorian huffed and leaned forward over Caim’s shoulder to kiss Bull before pushing away. Bull grinned and let the momentum send him backwards into the pillows, taking a squeaking Caim with him.

He blinked up at Bull, momentarily confused by the change in position. Bull blinked back-- or maybe it was a wink?-- and grinned at him. “Comfy, Boss?” he asked as his hands slid up to his hips. Caim shivered and nodded, pressing a kiss to Bull’s collarbone. 

A cork popped free behind, and Caim felt a flash of anticipation scorch through him. Bull grinned wider at that, holding him steady as he rolled his hips up. Caim groaned at the sudden friction to his cock and wriggled his own hips for more, but Bull held him fast. “Soon,” he murmured in his ear, teeth grazing the shell. “Don't want this to end too quickly.”

Dorian returned and ran a finger down the center of Caim’s spine. “I like this, by the way,” he said almost absently. “I assume there is a story behind it?”

Caim looked over his shoulder, puzzled at what felt like a change of topic “Story behind what?”

“The tattoo, Caim. Little cat creature? Maybe a fox? Don’t tell me you actually forgot you had it!”

“Ah.” No, he hadn't forgotten. Not exactly. It was purely an in-the-moment lapse of recall. “It’s a fox. I was drunk and-- o- _oh Dorian_!” Caim broke off with a high moan, hands clenching into fists as Dorian pressed a cool, slick finger to his entrance.

“Oh that’s cute,” Bull commented, stroking a hand along his back in a counterpoint to Dorian carefully pushing his finger inside. Caim wasn't sure if he was talking about the tattoo or the way Caim buried his face into his chest. “You were saying?”

“P-please don’t... make me go into that right now!” he begged. “It-- _aah_ \-- involves talking about my cousin, and I-I _cannot_ d-do that with your finger in my ass!”

Dorian chuckled against his back as he slowly twisted said finger about. “Fair enough, but I expect to hear it in full detail later,” he admonished before setting to the task of preparing his lover in earnest.

Caim whimpered in response. Bull tugged him back up and busied himself with biting at his throat and sucking dark bruises on his skin. Caim made attempts to muffle himself against Bull’s neck, but between his two lovers, he was fairly certain he would need an actual gag to completely halt his whines and gasps. It felt like an eternity as Dorian slowly fingered him, and as he added a second finger, Caim wondered if his speed was simply caution or torture.

Although, as he considered who it was behind him, it was very likely both.

Eternity ended when Dorian crooked his fingers up just so, and Caim clamped his jaws down on Bull’s neck to smother the scream. Bull twitched under him as Caim pulled back in apology. “I think he’s ready, Dorian,” Bull stated dryly. Caim licked the bite to soothe it, but Bull just put a hand in his hair to still him. “Don’t worry about that. Won’t even scar.”

Dorian hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his fingers over that same bundle of nerves, driving soft, helpless mewls past Caim’s lips. Caim tried to hold himself still, but it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the chant of more thrumming through his veins. 

“We’ve got you, _amatus_ ,” Dorian murmured soothingly as he withdrew, his free hand tracing the fox running down his spine. It made a good anchor to focus on, but the thought was driven away as Dorian aligned the head of his cock to his entrance. “Ready?”

“ _Please_ yes!”

Bull tipped Caim’s face up and kissed him. “I want to see the look on your face as you take him,” he said, voice tender and rough.

Caim wasn't sure what face he made as Dorian carefully thrust inside, but it must have been something spectacular. As he squeezed his eyes shut, he heard Bull groan loudly before seizing his lips once more, licking and swallowing every breathless sound.

“ _Maker_ that is a tight fit!” Dorian gasped as he sheathed himself in Caim’s ass. “How long has it been?”

“A- _ah_ wh… while…” Caim panted between kisses. “You… y-you were the… last… _Dorian_!” The last word was almost another scream as Dorian pulled out and gave a single hard thrust. The mage fell across his back and kissed his shoulder.

“That might be the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a very long while,” he said softly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of his head. “Sorry it took so long to notice.”

Caim shrugged as best he could caught between them. “P-past. We… we’re all t-together now.”

Dorian kissed him once more. “Quite right,” he said, and then he began in earnest, setting a pace that had Caim unravelling from the start. It was a good thing Bull held him steady, or else he might have sunk into the bed and never returned.

“You sound good, _kadaan_ ,” Bull whispered. “And if you could see yourself…” Caim shivered as he fell apart. Bull’s voice held a great deal of promise. It was honestly a shame he was more of an observer… A distant snatch of thought ran through him, and he slid his trembling hands down between them and wrapped them around the thick shaft of Bull’s cock. Bull groaned, rattling his chest and the elf draped across him.

Dorian paused at the groan, ignoring Caim’s protest. Bull grinned back at him. “He’s being considerate!”

“Ah.” Dorian resumed. Though Caim did his best to stroke Bull to completion, he knew it wouldn't be effective as he felt himself rushing into his own climax. It was a tide he could not ignore, not that he particularly wanted to. It had been far, far too long since he’d experienced this, and he wanted to enjoy every second.

“D-dorian… Bull, I… I think I’m--” Caim gasped and arched his back as Dorian slammed into him, striking the core deep within, and unleashed a wordless roar as he splattered his seed against Bull’s stomach. A few more strong thrusts, and Dorian followed behind him with a moan of his own, filling Caim with his spend.

It was tempting, so very tempting to lie there and bask in the glory of release and ecstasy after Dorian pulled out, but Caim couldn't. It was horribly rude to leave Bull to suffer, and Caim couldn't abide that. He struggled to his knees, Dorian catching him and holding him close. “What…?”

“Bull,” Caim answered, gesturing vaguely to the warrior’s still very full, very hard cock. It was probably an absurd thought that Bull was helpless, but it still resonated strongly in the aftermath of orgasm. Dorian laughed, and Caim could feel his smile pressed into his back. 

“Ah. Of course,” he said, brushing Caim’s hair from his shoulder to peer over at Bull. “Well, _amatus_? How do you want to do this?”

Bull sat up straighter, examining the two before him, pleased at the question. “You gave me an idea earlier,” he said thoughtfully. “You two sit down, like that yeah. Dorian, hold him like you did before… Good.”

Caim leaned back against Dorian, the mage cupping his chest and squeezing it. His skin felt sensitive, raw, and Dorian’s hands, soft though they were, were almost too much. Still, he relaxed, wondering what Bull was planning. 

He didn't have to wonder long. Bull shifted to his knees, looming over them both with a hungry smile slashed across his face. It would have been frightening if it weren't for the gentleness in his eye. “Hold still,” he said quietly as he gripped his leaking cock. He pressed the head against Caim’s stomach and slid the shaft up between his raised pectorals. Dorian let out a soft sigh against his neck, and Caim found himself echoing it as he felt the heat against his skin as Bull slowly moved up and down, fucking his chest.

It didn't take as long as Caim thought it might; Bull rumbled a warning, and he came, spraying his seed across Caim’s chest and chin. “Beautiful,” Bull whispered. Dorian released Caim and came around to his side, kissing and licking the mess from his face. Caim laughed, and Bull tugged them down to tangle in the comfort of the pillows and blankets. 

Dorian flailed an arm to the nightstand and grabbed a handkerchief to wipe the remainder from Caim’s neck and chest. “We can deal with the rest later,” he declared, arms wrapping about the others and effectively trapping them. Well Caim didn't think either he or Dorian could hold Bull immobile against his wishes, but for now all three were content to lay in a cuddle.

“This was good,” Caim mumbled happily, snuggling as close to Bull as was physically possible. 

“Interested in future repeats?” Bull asked, contentment rich in his voice. He crooked his arms to hold the others close. 

“Absolutely,” came the reply. Caim closed his eyes. He wasn't tired, not precisely, but he felt like floating and wanted nothing more than to bask in love and companionship.

Until Dorian poked his arm. “Don't go to sleep quite yet, amatus. You still owe us a story.” 

Caim cracked an eye open and stuck his tongue at him before relenting. “We were about sixteen,” he started. “My cousin, Gavin, we got drunk one night with some of the others. And we were camped near some other travellers. One of them was an artist, so someone got the idea to go get tattoos.”

Bull snorted. “Should’ve guessed alcohol was involved. And you went for a fox?”

“Hey, mine’s _tasteful_. Gav decided _he_ needed a unicorn on his ass cheek. Complete with _sparkles_.”

“I take it your Keeper and elders were rather displeased when you returned,” Dorian said with a raised eyebrow.

“It took them a bit to notice,” Caim admitted, “but yes. They were _furious_. The Keeper lectured the _entire_ clan for about four hours and assigned us to discipline detail for _months!_ ”

Bull snickered. Dorian shook his head, a wide grin on his face. “But why a fox?” he wanted to know.

Caim shrugged. “Gav’s a mage, the First in our clan. He and I’ve always been really close, and sometimes he dreams. When he does, he sees me as a fox. It made sense at the time.”

“I can see it,” Bull grunted. “‘Specially with that hair and your fighting style.”

“Efficient?”

“Scrappy.”

Dorian laughed at that and pulled himself closer to press a kiss first to Caim, then to Bull. “It’s a good tattoo for a drunk decision. Are you usually that capable when inebriated?”

“Depends. According to Gav, I reach a point where I go limp and cling to whoever’s nearest, but I am not certain if he was joking. It doesn't happen often.”

Bull made a thoughtful sound. “We’ll have to play around with that. Might be fun.”

“Later,” Dorian insisted. “Rest for now. I intend to take full advantage of this week _and_ of both of you.”

Laughter bubbled up, and Caim shook his head. He closed his eyes once more, gratified to hear two sets of breaths near. He made a note to thank Varric and Vivienne later. This week was something he’d needed. Something they’d all needed. 

And he honestly couldn't wait to see what else was planned for this little break.


	2. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian hates fishing.

Dorian was unhappy, and there was a list of people that were to blame. First was Bull for suggesting they have some “outdoor bonding time.” Second was Caim, who had decided to ask the locals for suggestions. Then there was Steward Calvin for his insistence that they simply _must_ try fishing on the lake as it was some national pastime or other. And then there were the oh so _helpful_ people who loaned the Inquisitor and their boats and equipment! Yes, it was a very long list, and Dorian was occupying himself with thoughts of revenge. 

“You realize this is the _same_ lake that we were killing undead in a few months ago,” he groused, slumping further down the boat. And _another_ thing! They were on this rickety little rowboat, and it would be a miracle if they didn't end up capsizing!

“It’s perfectly safe, Dorian. People eat what they catch here all the time,” Bull answered with insufferable calm as he placed a wriggling little worm on the end of a hook. Dorian almost felt sorry for the thing; what a terrible way to go. 

“There is _plenty_ of food at the keep!” Dorian pointed out. “Already prepared, without the need for all of this mess!”

“It won't be too bad, Dorian. It’s rather rewarding to eat your own catch,” Caim answered cheerfully with a grin that threatened to undo the righteously _cross_ mood Dorian had managed to create. Dorian favored him with a baleful look, pointedly ignoring the way the sun highlighted the freckles on his cheeks.

“I could do _without_ that sort of reward,” Dorian said with a sniff. “Weren’t we sent out here to relax? Not potentially drown ourselves toiling at peasant chores?”

Caim put down the reel of fishing wire he was in the process of straightening out and leveled a look of pure irony at the mage. “Dorian. Dear. I _am_ a peasant.”

Dorian paused and frowned at himself. Right. He had forgotten the Grand Lord Inquisitor’s less than grand roots. “Forgive me. That one was out of line.”

“It’s forgiven,” Caim replied gently, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “It’s just a few hours, Dorian. It’ll be fine.”

“Oh _wonderful!_ A few hours of smelling like fish and tangled dreams! I feel positively _giddy!_ ”

Caim laughed and returned to the wire. Alright, admittedly it wasn't that snarled, but if ever there was another material more inclined to knot itself, Dorian had yet to discover it.

“Have you ever done this before, Boss?” Bull asked, casting his line out over the water and grinning as it landed in the lake with a satisfying plop. 

“A few times,” came the answer as Caim released his own line. “I admit, I usually had better results using knives and spears. There weren't many lakes back home.”

“Yeah. Poles and shit are harder to carry around if you’ve already got weaponry to deal with,” Bull said. “I don't recommend blunt weapons for the job. Gets messier.”

“Are you telling me we’ve come all the way out here and _neither_ of you know what you’re doing?” Dorian asked sharply. 

“Of course we do, Dorian. It’s not that hard to learn,” Bull said, still with that same exasperatingly calm tone that made Dorian want to wring his large neck. “Besides, it’s supposed to be relaxing.”

“Oh is _that_ what you call it,” Dorian grumbled, hunching lower in the boat. A massage was relaxing. A day spent lounging in the finest of inns was relaxing. A good meal spent surrounded by handsome men and delicacies was relaxing. But fishing? Fishing most _certainly_ wasn't relaxing. It was _boring._

And two hours later, it was _still_ boring. The only changes in the little boat was the small pile of fish (Only a dozen or so of the flopping things, Dorian noted with a sense of perverse satisfaction) and the angle of Caim’s pole listing far too close to the water, held up by limp hands. Caim himself was currently slumped behind Bull’s back, dozing in the warm sun.

Dorian honestly envied him. Unfortunately he didn't trust his balance while unconscious. But at least _someone_ was enjoying some peace. And even in his blackest mood, Dorian couldn't begrudge Caim that. Not after all he’d been doing for his cause.

“How’re you holding up, Boss?” Bull’s voice startled Dorian out of his thoughts.

“He’s out,” Dorian replied. 

“Hm. Figured that might happen.”

Dorian blinked, turning in his seat to look back at Bull with suspicion. “You planned that, didn't you?”

Bull pulled in another fish and met Dorian's gaze without flinching. “There was a high enough chance. It’s sunny, quiet, and lots of people use fishing as an excuse to nap. And if anyone needs some extra sleep, it’s him.”

“Quite right,” Dorian said softly, brushing hair from the sleeping elf’s face. “So this awful trip was simply a ploy to trick Caim into taking a nap?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

Something in Bull’s voice made Dorian narrow his eyes. “What’s the other reason?”

Bull snorted and cast his line once more. “Figured I’d take advantage of bragging rights.”

Dorian aimed a glare at that horned head, but if Bull felt it, he gave no indication. Irritation pricked at his skin. He could be altruistic, suffering this little outing for the sake of Caim’s wellbeing. But… _Bragging rights._

Dorian growled to himself and stretched out a hand. If Bull wanted bragging rights, Dorian would give them to him. Electricity gathered at his hand, sparks arcing back and forth across his fingers. With a mental shove, he threw the lightning from him to strike the lake twenty meters from the boat. Bull jumped and whirled to stare at him, shaking Caim awake, and Dorian felt his lips twist into a smug smile as several smoking fish carcasses floated to the surface of the water.

Another mental tug brought fish into the boat. Caim looked from the pile to Dorian and back before laughing. Dorian figured he’d treasure the incredulous stupor on Bull’s face for years to come.

“Oh look at that. I won! Can we go now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate fishing about as much as Dorian. This was a lot of fun to write.
> 
> Thanks to trashacolypse for betaing!
> 
> Comments are always welcome! We'll get back to smut next chapter.


	3. Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out boredom is a problem on vacation. Fortunately, Caim knows someone who can help with that.

It started simply enough. Bull had honestly forgotten about his “scrappy” fighting style comment, but Caim hadn't. He had just been waiting for an opportunity. That opportunity came as Bull was working off some excess energy in Caer Bronach’s training yard. Vacation or no, he had a reputation and fighting prowess to maintain. Besides, Dorian was off reading some magic thing he’d been trying to get through, and Caim was napping. Bull had made it one of his missions to ensure the guy got as much sleep as possible on this trip.

“Do you ever use a weapon that’s shorter than the average man?” Bull looked up from the hapless dummy he was in the process of decimating. Caim lingered by the fence, reclining on the post with eyes glittering with a mischief that immediately put Bull on his guard. As much as he loved the man, he’d learned to be wary of anyone who could keep pace in a conversation with Sera.

“Sometimes,” he grunted in reply, placing the large hammerhead into the ground. “Sleep well?”

Caim made a face. “I fear I’ll feel quite spoiled when we return to Skyhold after this. I’m turning slothful.”

“Hmm.” Bull raised an eyebrow at that. Keeping Caim Lavellan from his duties would take far more than a single week of idleness. “What brings you here instead of lounging in bed?” 

“Can a man simply not desire good company and to watch a handsome body at work?” he asked innocently. A bit _too_ innocently. Bull narrowed his eye, waiting. It didn't take long. “Alright, fine. I’ve gotten tired of ‘lounging in bed’, as you’ve put it. I was looking for a workout of my own.”

That wasn’t it. Not entirely. But Bull figured he’d play along. If only to indulge him. He gestured at the empty yard. “Plenty of room,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not gonna stop you.”

Caim hopped over the fence and fixed Bull with a look. “I was actually hoping you’d help facilitate.” Bull tensed, filled with the sense all significant others have when they’ve done _something_ but don’t know what. Dorian was good at giving him that feeling. “Unless of course, you think it’d be too _scrappy._ ”

Oh. _There_ it was. Bull hadn't thought the man the sort capable of holding a grudge, although… This was sorta petty for a grudge. This was just an excuse for a fight or something. Knowing Caim, this was just to relieve some boredom. He double-checked the expression on his dark face. Yeah, the elf was messing with him. That was fine. Bull could mess right back.

“I don't know, Boss. I wouldn't want to break you…” He smirked as he was rewarded with a small pout. “But since I’ve got nothing better to do, might as well. Just give me a bit to clear us some space.” 

A few minutes later, the training dummies had all been shoved to the sides of the yard, leaving them a pretty decent little arena. Caer Bronach proved to have a variety of practice weapons on hand, and Bull’s estimation of the captain rose a few notches. Small and out of the way it may be, but the man still deemed it necessary to maintain the keep as though it could be the center for something important. Whether or not that happened was anyone’s guess, but for now it meant he and Caim both had a choice on weaponry.

“Live steel or no?” Caim asked, picking through the knives, picking up a narrow blade and testing its weight. 

“Works for me unless you’re afraid of something going wrong.” Bull flashed a challenging look at the elf, earning himself a flat look that almost dared him to take the other and turn him over on his knee and watch that superior expression melt into something far softer. Now _there_ was a nice prospect.

“Things can always go wrong,” Caim replied, unaware of Bull’s fantasizing, “but I think we’ll be fine. It’ll keep us… sharp.”

Bull groaned. “You’re killing me, Boss,” he complained as he stepped behind Caim and tipped his face up to kiss the satisfied smirk from his face. Caim set the dagger aside and leaned back against him, humming. He pressed closer, inviting Bull deeper past his soft lips. They hung there intertwined in the equipment shed for a long moment, almost long enough for Bull to start trying to calculate how long it’d take for them to run to their rooms, before Caim broke the kiss. Bull groaned again. “You’re killing me.”

Caim grinned impishly up at him. “Later. After I kick your ass.” He grabbed the daggers and scooted back into the yard, leaving Bull to growl and grab his own weapon and stalk after him. Between Caim and Dorian, he had a feeling he’d die from all the teasing. 

Caim was waiting for him in the center of the yard, bouncing on the balls of his feet and amber eyes brilliant with a manic light. Bull hefted the warhammer up on his shoulder and admired the view for a moment. He was on the short side-- granted who wasn't in his opinion-- but carried himself with the bearing of someone much taller. And now, standing ready for a fight? He was stunning, a fierce grin on his face, stray strands of red hair glinting in the sunlight. Bull smiled to himself. He really did resemble the fox that adorned his back.

“Hope you’re ready, Boss,” he called. “I’m not going easy on you!”

“I’m not interested in easy,” Caim replied blithely. “I’m interested in you.” His grin grew wider. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Bull advanced, and they were off. Caim was fast. Bull’d known that, theoretically, but seeing it at his side is one thing. Having all of that speed centered on him was another. Even without his bag of smoke and poison powders, the elf managed to appear in multiple places at once, dashing in with slashing blades that Bull narrowly blocked. Fine. Caim had the speed. But Bull had the _reach._

Caim ducked under the swing of Bull’s hammer once more, but this time, Bull was ready. There was a sting as one of the daggers bit his skin, but it was a shallow scratch not worth worrying about. He let go of the hammer with one hand and grabbed Caim just as he tried to move away. Bull gripped his shoulder and threw him to the ground, thrusting the shaft of the hammer between his legs to ensure a fall. Caim spun and tripped, a cloud of dust rising as his back slammed into the dirt. 

Even with the wind knocked out of him, Caim moved to jump to his feet. Bull didn't give him a chance, pinning him down with the hammer across his chest and knocking the daggers out of his grasp. The elf struggled more than Bull would’ve given him credit for, but after an insistent shove with the hammer pole, he gave up, panting. The fox comparison floated up once more, and Bull had to swallow a laugh as he leaned down to leer into Caim’s face. “I win.”

Caim laughed breathlessly. “I’m going to have to remember that trick,” he puffed, a wide smile on his flushed face. Defeated, but not yet conquered. Bull had an overwhelming urge to fix that. He leaned in close, hovering just inches above Caim. Close enough to feel his breath on his face. Close enough to hear his rapid heartbeat. Close enough to feel a rising tent in his breeches. Caim stilled under him, a gasp hovering on his lips.

“What’s the matter?” Bull murmured, almost a growl that resulted in a pleasant shiver in the man under him. “I thought you were gonna kick my ass.” Caim’s eyes flashed defiantly, and he pushed up against Bull. Bull shoved back down on the hammer, using his full weight to trap him. “No, I won this one, and I have earned my winnings.”

Caim flushed a darker red, his lips parting with an eager grin. It was tempting to push him a little more and see how long it took for him to snap, but Bull wanted to be in private for that. He moved as if to kiss him, ducking his head to the side at the last moment to whisper in Caim’s ear. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We are gonna clean up here and go to your chambers, and then I am going to take my reward out of your ass.” 

“Y-yes, _sir!_ ” Caim gasped. There was a hint of humor in his eyes, but Bull liked the way that sounded. He grinned at the way Caim shivered and squirmed under him, and for a moment regretted his own declaration. Briefly entertaining the notion of taking the elf here and now in the dusty training grounds had his pants feeling tighter by the second. Still that was _probably_ a bad idea. He’d get an earful from Dorian at least.

He shoved off of Caim and helped him to his feet to start in on what was likely the fastest clean-up the yard had ever seen. Bull had to admire Caim’s control; if he didn’t know the elf as well as he did, he’d have thought there was nothing on his mind. But there was a specific tension in his back and in the set of his lips, and every so often he glanced over at Bull with an expression that could only be described as lust. Bull took great pride in his work.

By some miracle, there was no one who wanted to stop and have a chat with the Inquisitor as they made their way back into the keep, threading through the corridors into the suite. Dorian was nowhere to be found, which was a pity, but Bull knew better than to try and pull him away from whatever tome he was immersed in. 

Once safely behind a closed door and thick walls, Bull growled hungrily and turned on Caim, shoving him against the wall and crushing his lips against the other’s. Caim’s eyes sparked as he moaned in surprise, hands scrabbling for purchase on Bull’s shoulders. The kiss lasted _just_ long enough, leaving Caim breathless and of the edge of desperation as Bull turned his attention to his neck, biting and sucking lasting marks to the sounds of whining gasps. When he took a step back to admire his handiwork, Caim almost slid down the wall on unsteady legs.

“If… this is the c-cost of losing a fight….” he panted, looking up at Bull with need and adoration. Bull felt like he could get very used to that sort of look. “Remind me… to lose more often…”

Bull rose an eyebrow at that as he helped Caim stumble to the bed, pushing him onto the mattress. He was a sight to behold; flushed and covered in dirt and sweat with a necklace of bite marks, clothes torn and stained, hair falling into tangled locks from his usually immaculate bun to splay around his head in a copper halo… Bull grinned. He was beautiful and, for the moment, all _his_. His scrappy, needy, little fox.

“Is this what you were looking for?” he asked in a voice perfected for the sole purpose of making others quiver. Caim was no exception; Bull felt his body tremble with failing restraint as he made short work of the elf’s clothes. Dorian would fuss at the ruined garments, but that was just an added bonus for later. “Someone to take all that wild energy of yours?” He grabbed the jar of oil and popped it open, pouring it liberally in his hands.

“W-was it that… that obvious?” Caim asked, trying to maintain some semblance of composure even as he spread his legs at Bull's gesture. The effort was cute. Ultimately unnecessary, but cute. 

“Just a bit,” Bull said with a smirk, pressing a slick finger against Caim’s entrance. Caim started with a high, breathy moan and a rapturous expression that made Bull’s arousal spike. “But I’ll take care of it for you. I’m nice like that.” He carefully pushed his finger inside, greatly enjoying the way it made Caim shudder and bite his lip. 

“You are-- _ah_ \-- v-very nnh… nice…” Caim already looked on the edge, and Bull realized that he had told the truth earlier. This week was ending a rather long dry spell for the elf. Bull made a note of that; they’d have to work on his endurance, bring it back up. As it was, Bull himself wanted to get things moving, and so he worked Caim open with a practiced efficiency. It didn’t take too long, not that Bull would have minded listening to those little gasps and whimpers all day. Oh. Now _that_ was a thought… He’d do some research into that later. Dorian could help. 

When at last he deemed Caim ready, or at least as ready as he could be, he stepped back from the bed and dropped his pants, kicking them aside and grinning at the astonished and gleeful expression on Caim’s face.

“Y-you know… I-I don’t think I’ll e-ever get tired of s-seeing that,” he remarked, almost dazed as Bull lined the head of his cock up. Caim’s hips twitched as his knees were raised off the bed. “ _F-feels_ even b-bigger…”

“Does it now?” Bull asked, easing his way inside to give the elf a moment to adjust, delighting in the sight of the elf’s tiny body taking him in. Caim answered with a rattling groan, fistfuls of sheets clutched in each hand.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bull took a moment to revel in the tight, crushing heat. This never got old, no matter how many times he did it, and to do it with someone who cared for more than just a bit of roughhousing? It was astounding! And he had two people who gave that to him! How did he get so lucky? 

“Are you ready, little fox?”

“Real… Really? That’s wh-what you’re going with?”

Bull’s grin grew wider as Caim attempted to give him a baleful glare. If he were charitable, he’d think it was hard for anyone to give that sort of look while wrapped around a cock. But Bull wasn’t feeling charitable at the moment. He gave a minute thrust, knocking the expression from Caim’s face. “I am. You planning on doing something about it?” 

Caim opened his mouth but a second, harder thrust choked whatever scathing remark he had into a strangled groan. He made another attempt. With similar results. The battle of wills was over before it started, and he fell back against the bed with a moan. Bull snorted and leaned over him, almost folding him double. “That’s what I thought. Now what are you?”

Bull could see a hint of rebellion on his face and dealt with that with a twitch his hips. Caim gasped and surrendered. “Fine... I’ll b-be your fox.”

“Good.”

With a swift kiss, Bull began in earnest. The sound of their hips meeting bounced off the stones accompanied to the chorus if Caim’s breathy, begging cries. He was beautiful in debauchery, and Bull wished he could record every moment of this for later. It’d be a comfort on those lonely nights when his partners were absent-- not that he’d ever admit to needing the comfort.

It didn't last long. Bull knew it wouldn’t not with how worked up they’d been starting. Caim climaxed with a scream, Bull’s name tearing from his throat like it was the last thing it wanted to say. After a few more sharp thrusts, Bull let himself go as well, revelling in the softer whimper that fell from his lover’s lips and the way his belly swelled from his seed. 

Caim melted back against the bed with a sigh of pure satisfaction. Bull separated himself and cleaned them off with a corner of the blanket. They’d need a bath, but for now all Bull wanted to do was lay down for a bit and maybe take a nap. From the look on Caim’s face, he was in a similar mindset. Bull gathered him in his arms and stretched out on the bed.

“That what you needed?”

Caim snuggled closer and hummed. “Mmhm. Thanks.”

“Anytime, fox.” Bull grinned as Caim shifted and look at him with resignation. It looked as though he’d protest the nickname again-- which Bull planned on never giving up on _purely_ because of the look he was receiving-- but he shook his head with a sigh. Victory.

“You’re going to have to explain that one to Dorian,” he said, settling back down.

“Not a problem. Dorian’s already noticed the resemblance.”

Caim huffed and did his best to burrow underneath Bull. It wasn’t that successful, but he seemed comfortable. Bull waited for a moment to see if any other remarks were forthcoming, but his breathing evened out into the pattern of sleep. He smiled and ducked down to kiss his forehead.

“Get some rest, _kadaan_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Thanks for sticking with this!
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!


	4. Day Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Caim spend some quality time

“Caim? Are you here?” The lamps were dim, though that didn't mean much; it wouldn’t be the first time Dorian found Caim lost in a task in a mostly dark room. He cast his eyes around the gloom of their shared chambers until they fell on a slumped figure wrapped in a blanket curled in a chair by the window. _There_ he was. Asleep, and judging from the book threatening to slip from his lap, not on purpose. Dorian relit the lamps and smiled as he made his way over to his slumbering lover. “ _Amatus_? Can you hear me?”

Caim stirred with a soft murmur that made Dorian want to tuck him up in that blanket and carry him to bed. Which was… Not a bad idea, actually. Dorian carefully eased the book from his lap and set it on the table. Caim stirred again, opening his eyes with a yawn. “Dorian…? What…?”

“Good evening, Caim,” Dorian said with a small grin. “Boring book?”

Caim sat up and rubbed his eyes. Dorian was pleased to note that the elf had borrowed one his silk robes. It was a tad broad in the shoulders, but he was a pretty little dream in the green, filmy thing. There was something of a sense of possessive pride in seeing Caim in his clothes. 

“A bit more than expected,” Caim admitted. “What time is it?”

“Just after sunset,” Dorian answered. “Bull got caught in the tavern with a bet.”

“What sort of bet?”

Dorian shrugged. “The sort with copious amounts of alcohol and boasting. It looked as though it’d take a while, so I took my leave.”

“Almost wish I was dressed enough to go watch,” Caim said before looking up with with an apologetic expression. “Ah. Speaking of, I’m sorry for borrowing your robe. I didn’t want to bother with another set of clothes.”

“Please. You have _no_ idea the sort of joy I feel seeing you in my things,” Dorian said with a wave of his hand. “You _do_ look rather tempting in that robe, I must say.”

Caim grinned up at him. “Should I remove it? If only to protect you from temptation, of course.”

Dorian laughed put a hand on his shoulder. “Minx. Forget temptation and come to bed. Bull will be a while and it’s been _hours_ since I’ve spoken to you.”

“Hours, is it?” Caim’s grinned softened into something that made Dorian’s heart flutter, not that he was willing to admit it, but it did make him feel… Cherished. Being cherished wasn't something he’d had much experience with until these two men waltzed into his life. 

Dorian shook his head clear of the decidedly _sentimental_ train of thoughts he was following. Why question a good thing? He made his way to the bed and sat back among the pillows and gestured for Caim to join him. “At least one or two,” he clarified. “That is still _far_ too long.”

Caim chuckled and stood, stretching with a yawn. Dorian’s heart gave another curious flutter as the robe slipped off his shoulder, revealing a peek at his rather nicely sculpted, brown chest. Caim was not the picture of strength and masculinity that made Bull so infuriatingly attractive, but there was a sense of power and grace in his lithe body, much like a cat.

Or a fox.

“What are you smirking at?” Caim asked, raising an eyebrow as he joined Dorian on the bed. Dorian tugged him over to hold him from behind.

“Just thinking,” he answered, running his fingers through the elf’s long hair and noting the faint bruises along his neck. “Bull made a mention of your tussle. He rather did do a number on you.” Dorian leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to one of the bruises. “I will be honest, I thought a fox would have sharper teeth.”

Caim groaned even as he relaxed against Dorian. “Not you, too!”

“You must admit, it is apt,” Dorian laughed, hugging Caim closer. “I believe Bull’s determined to make it stick.”

Caim huffed. “You realize Varric’s going to be very put out when he realizes the two of you have beaten him to the punch.”

“I can absolutely live with that.”

“You really aren’t going to let it go, are you?”

“Not a bit.”

Caim sighed and rested his head against Dorian’s shoulder. “I suppose I can live with it. For your sake if nothing else.”

Pressing a kiss to his temple, Dorian smiled. “You are a dear,” he murmured, savoring the sweet scent of the soaps Caim used in his hair. It was still slightly damp from his bath. Dorian had never really considered long hair as an attractive point, but on Caim, he found it worked. Maybe it was merely a sign of how smitten he’d become with the elf in general. Either way, he found it pleasing to play with. And when Caim wore it down, it gave him a far softer, more fragile air that ignited all sorts of barbaric protective feelings.

Dorian hugged Caim closer, his free hand carding through a river of copper. “You should wear it down more often. It suits you.”

“I would, but it starts getting in the way after a while,” Caim answered, snuggling closer. Dorian smothered a smile. Who’d have guessed the Inquisitor would have such an affinity for cuddling? “And I admit pinning up gives me more room to store things.”

“Things?”

“Small knives, lockpicks. Things for emergencies.” Caim shrugged, as though it were a common thing to admit to hiding weapons in one’s hair. But, Dorian reflected, considering the state of the world? Perhaps it was merely pragmatism. 

“I had wondered about those,” he said. “Where do you even find pins like that?”

“Usually? I make them. It’s cheaper and I don’t have to tell people what they’re for. No one bats an eye at an elf making jewelry, but they might if he starts asking for easily hidden knives.”

Dorian nodded, twining Caim’s hair about his fingers. He wondered if it was too late to remember how to braid… Maybe Caim would be willing to teach him. “Is long hair common among the Dalish?”

“Common enough,” was the answer. “I’d have kept it short, but there was this girl…”

Dorian snorted, attempting to ignore the completely unworthy flare of jealousy. “Attempting to impress her?”

Caim turned his head to kiss Dorian’s cheek. “Don’t worry. She was twelve. Like a little sister. She made me promise not to cut my hair because she wanted to play with it.”

“Oh.” Dorian hadn’t thought much about Caim’s life before he’d become the Inquisitor and that whole mess of time travel. The elf asked so many questions about, well, _everything_ that it was easy to miss the fact he rarely talked about himself. Maybe it was time to fix that. “What was she like?”

For a moment, only silence answered and Dorian was afraid he’d touched upon some forbidden subject. Caim’s hand reached up to rest on Dorian’s arm, and he felt his lover’s weary sigh through his whole body. 

“Aisling was quiet. There was a really long time where we wondered if she’d ever learn to speak. But she was stubborn, determined to keep up and follow us everywhere.” Caim laughed at the memory, and Dorian found himself smiling along. “She loved to draw. Kept sticks dipped in charcoal in her hair so she could draw on whatever happened to be nearby. Not a day went by that she didn’t have paint on her hands.”

“You sound as though you miss her.”

“I do. She proved to have the mage gift, and since we already had two fully trained mages… They sent her away. I haven’t seen her in three years. Gavin was .” Caim curled his knees to his chest. There was something in his voice, an old bitterness Dorian could almost recognize.

“Gavin… Your cousin, correct?” he asked, wondering if he should leave it be.

“My cousin and the clan’s First. He hated that his status meant we lost Ash. I hated it, too, but it was _tradition_.” The last word was spat with an air of old grievance. Caim’s grip on Dorian’s arm tightened as his body tensed, but before Dorian could do anything, the anger faded almost as quickly as it flared. The elf sighed and relaxed back against him. “I’m sorry, Dorian… I love my clan and family, but…”

“I understand,” Dorian said softly. And he _did_. Loving one’s home and hating what it’s become were two very complicated, very hard to reconcile things. And yet, _somehow_ it wasn’t impossible to be trapped in both. He absolutely understood that. “I am sorry, _amatus_.” 

Caim shook his head, his hand seeking behind him to take possession of Dorian’s hand. Dorian surrendered it gladly, twining their fingers together and squeezing it gently. If a bit of hand-holding made him feel better, Dorian would do just that. “It’s not your fault, love,” Caim said, raising Dorian’s hand to his lips. “I’m not sure it’s anyone’s fault. It’s just… A thing, I guess.”

He fell silent again, and Dorian found a peculiar comfort in the silence. Caim wasn’t particularly evasive when it came to his past, nor did he hide when asked directly. Oh, he certainly had some manner of secret joke when it came to the scar across his eye, and he told outrageous stories that were perhaps slightly embellished, but he’d never struck Dorian as the private sort. If Bull were here, he’d make some remark that the elf had mastered the art of deflection or some nonsense, because it never registered that he _had_ walls until he lowered them. Dorian was honestly touched that he was allowed in at all.

He was drawn from his contemplations as Caim shook with a burst of laughter. It wasn’t a particularly joyous sound, and Dorian raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking… Is it wrong to be grateful for the end of the world?”

Dorian frowned. That was… unexpected. Maybe this was a conversation that should wait for Bull to get back. “I am afraid I don’t follow.”

“Just… I am reasonably certain that I was sent to… Monitor the Conclave to get me away from my cousin. The Keeper thought I might have been a bad influence on him. Or at least a distraction.”

“And…?”

“And if things had gone as planned, I’d have gone home and probably been married off to a girl in another clan.” He tilted his head to look up at Dorian, eyes wide and earnest. “All things considered, the Breach and all meant I got to meet you and Bull. It’s probably a scandal, but… I am glad.”

A suspicious moisture misted over Dorian’s eyes, and he held Caim tightly as he blinked it away. “That’s one way to look at it,” he replied. “For what it’s worth, I am glad as well.”

Caim smiled wide, and it was like the sun came out. Dorian tipped his head to kiss him and swallow and savor some of that warmth for himself against the cold days ahead. His hand, still gripping Caim’s, tightened, and he found himself wishing he never had to let go. They lingered in the kiss, gentle and comforting with hums of soft pleasure. It was perfect, Dorian thought, or as close as it could be with a piece missing.

“Thank you,” Caim murmured when they parted. He ducked his head to rest in the crook of Dorian’s neck, his breath warming his skin. 

“For what?” he asked, brushing a wisp of hair from his face. He looked peaceful, a sight that was rare these days. 

“Everything. Being here and all.”

Dorian released Caim’s hand to hug him fully, tugging him close. This was getting dangerously close to mawkish. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” he replied, pressing another kiss to the top of his head. “And I fear if we continue with adoring confessions, Bull will come to find us in tears.”

“Drat. There goes my plan for passing the time,” Caim said with a dramatic sigh, a grin teasing his sharp features.

“Fox,” Dorian admonished him fondly. “If you’re wanting something to do, I do have a few ideas.”

Caim looked up at Dorian, eyes dancing. “Well that sounds promising. Do tell!”

Dorian smirked and slid his hand down the elf’s slender body to grasp his cock, prompting a perfectly lascivious sigh from his lips. Caim melted back against him, and soon a sweet chorus of gasps and moans filled the room. Perhaps Dorian should have felt a tad guilty for leaving Bull put of the fun, but as he sucked his own red mark on top of the existing bruises, he reflected fair was fair. 

Besides. This just meant there’d be some retaliation later. There was enough time for all of them on this getaway. For now, he merely wanted to focus on the task at hand.

And really, that was _more_ than enough for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be smut but it escaped and did its own thing.
> 
> Ah well.
> 
> Special thanks to trashacolypse for being the best beta to beta!
> 
> Comments always appreciated!


	5. Day Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caim has a nightmare and punches Dorian in the face.

_Cold… It’s so cold. Come on. One more step. Just one more. Foot in front of the other. Just focus on that. Ignore the pain in your body, the sparking of the damned mark in your hand. You’re alive, a miracle. You can work with that. Keep walking. That’s it, one more step. Block out the wind howling in your ears, don’t think about how much is sounds like the demons of despair that you saw in the cavern. You’re alive. That darkspawn Corypheus_ thing _didn’t kill you, neither did they._

“Caim.”

_A fire. Cold, but a sign. You’re on the right track. Body’s numb, can’t even feel the bruises and cracked bones. That’s not a good sign, but you can’t stop. Keep going. People are counting on you. They’re always counting on you. You’re a piss-poor Herald if you let them down._

“Caim!”

_Can’t keep this up. There’s nothing but the cold. Come on, breathe and walk Caim. Watch your feet. Think about getting back to them, about the people waiting for you. About your friends waiting for you. It hurts and it’s cold. Can’t go on. There’s embers, close. Not close enough--_

“Caim! Oh for Andraste’s-- Wake _up!_ ”

Caim’s eyes flew open, and the first thing he registered in the dark bedroom was someone leaning over him. The second thing was that hands were shaking his shoulders. He reacted as any reasonable person waking suddenly with people hovering above them; he slammed his fist upward, connecting with something solid. The cry of pain that followed jolted him into true wakefulness. The hands released and he sat up straight, heart pounding.

“Dorian! What…!?”

A lamp flared into light, casting a blessedly warm glow that made Caim sag with relief. Or almost relief because Dorian was hunched over next to him with a hand over his cheek. A large hand rested on his shoulder as he leaned forward in concern, and Caim looked back at Bull. “What’s going on?” he asked, irritation flashing through him at how small his voice sounded.

“You were having a nightmare. Dorian tried to wake you up and was a little too successful,” came the answer. Bull’s face was filled with grave concern, an expression that didn’t suit him in Caim’s opinion. Neither did Dorian’s pained wincing, he noticed guiltily. He reached out, worried. Dorian waved him away.

“I’m fine, dear.” There was a crackle and a flash of green light, and Dorian removed his hand. Whatever damage Caim had done vanished. “See? _Much_ better. No harm done.”

Caim ducked his head, cheeks flushing under the weight of two troubled expressions. “Sorry about that,” he said, hoping they wouldn’t ask. He wasn’t sure how to explain that he was afraid of a weather condition. It felt beyond ridiculous to say aloud. He rubbed his damp eyes, hiding for a brief moment.

“No worries, Caim,” Dorian said kindly. “I’m honestly more worried about _you_ at the moment. Are you alright?”

Before Caim could shrug it off and say he was fine-- which he _was_ it just a _dream_ \-- Bull fixed him with a keen look that killed the words on his tongue. “Don’t start. You were crying.” 

That deflated the protest, and Caim exhaled, leaning back against the large warrior, taking comfort in his warmth and strength as he wrapped an arm around him. He could still feel the phantom sting of ice on his limbs, and he shivered. The arm about his shoulders tightened in response. “We’ve got you.” Bull’s voice floated softly above his head. Caim nodded in response. He knew that, knew it with a ring of absolute truth. There was more comfort in that. 

“What was it?” Dorian asked quietly, sidling close to hem Caim in the middle of a solid fortress of solace. A small surge of guilt rose in him; they both were worried, but unfortunately there wasn’t much to be done about bad dreams. There wasn’t anything they could do. 

_Though, as Bull rubbed his shoulder, Caim thought that statement wasn’t entirely true. This helped._

“Haven,” he answered, the word weighing heavily on his heart. It was the first and most prominent failure on the part of the Inquisition. _His_ failure. Why he didn’t die after the mountain collapsed, he still didn’t understand. Maybe it was the Maker or the Creators or whatever was supposed to be guiding the world. Maybe it had been sheer luck. 

Dorian nodded in understanding. Haven was a touchy subject for a great many people, and aside from a very brief and impersonal report, Caim himself avoided discussing what happened between the avalanche and when he’d been found. He didn’t know _how_. “Would you like to talk about it?” 

Caim shook his head. “I would literally rather discuss anything else,” he said with the brutal honesty of the exhausted. Dorian’s mustache twitched, but he didn’t press, exchanging a look with Bull over his head. 

“A distraction then?” he asked, reaching up to brush hair from Caim’s face. Caim tilted his head to press into his hand, grounding himself with the warmth of that simple touch. He was safe here, safe with these two. “We can do that.” Caim sighed, relieved. He wasn’t certain what he’d done to be blessed with these two wonderful men, but he’d gladly do it over and over again. Maybe whoever was in charge in the beyond had a merciful streak after all. 

Bull rubbed his shoulder, chasing tension from his body. Built for strength and power had the nice side-effect of making the Qunari a more than decent pillow. Caim tilted his head to fix his eyes on the lit lamp. It’s tiny, flickering flame seemed so fragile, but it drove back the darkness that still threatened to crash back in. And for that, Caim was grateful. 

Fingers brushed down his cheek under his left eye, tracing the edge of the scar hidden by his vallaslin, and Caim turned to look at Dorian settling next to him. “How did you get this?” he asked softly, earning a disapproving hum from Bull. Dorian’s eyes flicked up and he shrugged. “We said distracting, and I want to see if we get a straight answer this time,” he said in defense. 

“Irritated squirrel incident,” Caim said promptly, seizing onto the old joke before Bull could reply. If there was a hint of strain in his quick grin, neither of his partners commented. Hiding in humor was easy enough, a familiar refuge. 

Bull snorted, raising an eyebrow as Caim leaned back to look at him. “You’ve used that one already.” 

Caim frowned. “Have I?” 

Nodding, Bull traced the scar over his eye for himself. “When Krem asked.” 

“Oh.” Caim thought for a moment. “Slapfight with a bear?” 

Dorian’s lips quirked in a small smile. “No good. You used that one with Dagna.” 

“Duel of honor with an elderly hermit?” 

“Gave that one to one of the servers in the tavern.” 

“Tragic papercut?” 

“No. Remember that soiree in Lydes?” 

“Damn. Jealous ex-lover?” 

Bull and Dorian actually laughed in answer. “You’ve done that one _four_ times,” Dorian said smugly. 

“Ugh. Secret Dalish coming of age ritual?” 

“Nice try,” Bull said with a smirk. “You’re running out.” 

“..... Underwater basket-weaving trauma?” 

_“No,”_ the chorus rang out. 

Caim sighed. Bull was right; he was losing creativity-- at least with his two closest friends. He might as well come clean. “Fine. I was learning how to fly.” 

Dorian cackled. “I admit that one’s new, but you still aren’t off the hook, dear.” 

“That one’s the truth!” he protested. The expression on Dorian’s face spoke volumes of disbelief. When he peeked up, Bull held a similar look. 

“I think you need to elaborate, Fox,” he said with a wide grin. Caim groaned, feeling immensely lighter than he had a few minutes ago. 

“Okay _fine,_ ” he grumbled, barely hiding a grin of his own. It was a good story, just… Rather embarrassing. “When we were ten, my cousin got the idea that we could fly, or at least glide if we used a small tree like a catapult.” 

“Oh no.” Bull sounded as though he knew _exactly_ where this was headed, and reflecting on the stories he heard from Krem…? Caim wondered if he’d made a similar attempt. Dorian shushed him, motioning for Caim to continue. 

“We got the sapling bent down, but I couldn’t balance on it while Gavin was tying it down. The cloak kept getting in the way, you see. So we figured we’d tie me to the sapling until we got it set up. Except…”

“You forgot to untie yourself?” Dorian asked, mustache quivering with contained laughter. 

“We forgot to untie me,” Caim confirmed. “When we cut the rope for the launch, I wasn’t so much catapulted across the clearing so much as forcibly slammed into the ground. My face hit a stick and…” He gestured to the scar. 

Bull’s laughter shook the bed, the sound of it banishing the last bit of unhappiness from Caim’s soul. “Shit! What happened next?” 

“I don’t really remember?” he admitted, ignoring the blush dusting his cheeks. “I had a concussion, but Gavin said I was crying. Then the Keeper said he was _also_ crying and came running to her because he thought he’d killed me. After she patched me up, she laughed for hours. She left the scar as a reminder, said maybe we’d _think_ next time we tried to pull a stupid stunt like that.” 

“And did you?” Dorian asked, dark eyes wide and bright. 

Caim prevaricated. “Well… We never repeated _that_ incident.” Dorian snickered, but the sound was drowned by Bull’s guffaw. 

“Damn, Fox! You were a little hellraiser, weren’t you!” he exclaimed, clearly delighted by Caim’s misspent youth. 

Caim ducked his head, an embarrassed grin stretching his lips. “There wasn’t much else to do,” he confessed. “And I couldn’t let Gavin get in trouble on his own.” 

“You care for your cousin a great deal,” Dorian observed, still smirking. He cuddled closer, resting his head on Bull’s spare shoulder. “Do you miss him?” 

“Yes.” Caim’s heart pinched wistfully, but it didn’t hurt as much as it used to when he thought of his family. With the crisis in Wycome done and everyone reportedly safe… He didn’t need to worry about his cousin as much. Gavin was in good hands. 

Just like Caim himself was, he realized with a surge of fondness. “I’ll always miss him,” he said, closing his eyes to avoid meeting the others’ gaze. He loved them, but expressing it still felt awkward. “But you make it less painful.” He reached up to take their hands, squeezing them gently. 

Lips caressed his forehead and cheek. Caim cracked his eyes open, and felt his heart flutter at the _love_ shining in his partners’ eyes. 

"It’s what we’re here for,” Dorian said softly, fingers trailing where his lips just were. 

“Well that and saving the world,” Bull put in. He brought his other arm up to hold them both more securely. Caim huffed with a grin and rubbed his cheek against his chest, pressing a small kiss there. 

“Thank you,” he said simply, finally feeling fully warm between his two lovers. With that warmth came a peacefully weariness. There would be no more dreams, not this night anyways. He pulled their hands close to his chest and snuggled deeper between them, closing his eyes. 

“Thank you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly am not sure where this is going? It's pretty disjointed. Please know that the "day" chapter titles aren't really days. I am just really bad at titles. If you've got a scenario that you think would be interesting with these three go ahead and suggest it.
> 
> Gavin Lavellan is trashocalypse's Inquisitor. We will see more of him later. The scar story is also something she told me and graciously allowed me to expand it and use it.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Edit: I have no idea what the shit happened with the italics?? Hopefully I've fixed it.


	6. Day Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys killed a dragon and Caim is, surprisingly, a lightweight. Bull is vaguely disappointed, but cuddles work.

In retrospect, maybe the whole dragon hunting thing was a mistake. Not the fight itself of course, no. That shit was awesome and one of the best fights of Bull’s life. Kicking ass and dodging lightning bolts and claws and probably losing a portion of his hearing from all the angry roars with the two people he loved most in the world? That kicked _ass_. Bull figured he’d remember it for as long as he lived, reliving the sweet detail of Dorian’s fire streaking the air above his head or the way Caim wove in and out underneath the dragon’s forepaws with daggers flashing. All in all, it was a _very_ satisfying battle. 

It was when he suggested drinks to celebrate that the mistake hit. Because now he had a lap full of very shapely elf, but the elf in question was drunk out of his gourd. Caim was currently draped over him, hanging on his shoulders and practically asleep. No wonder he rarely drank in public, if this is what the stuff did to him. Bull sighed and lifted his drink again, resigned to his new role of furniture.

“To be fair, he _did_ warn us.” He looked over the top of his tankard at Dorian, who was currently nursing his own ale, having pointedly refused the heavier post-battle liquor Bull prefered. With the way it had hit Caim… Maybe Dorian had more foresight than he’d thought. 

“Remind me to keep him away from the hard stuff next time,” he groused, though there was little heat to his tone. Yes, this meant the _other_ half of his celebration plans were delayed, but it was hard to be mad at someone who looked so damned content in his arms. Plans could wait. Bull was patient. But he was _absolutely_ going to collect later.

Dorian sniffed and took another sip, grimacing at the taste. It was perfectly good ale, but not up to the quality of drink the altus required. But then, Bull reflected, there wasn’t much that was up to Dorian’s standards of perfection in general. Fortunately the man handled it well, which for Dorian meant lots of scathing remarks and dramatic sarcasm. Sometimes, if Bull was lucky, he could get Dorian to let out this little sigh of flat frustration. He took great pleasure in ruffling his high-class feathers.

Though at the moment, Dorian seemed as unflappable as the chair he sat in. And with his current state of inebriation and occupied lap, there wasn’t much Bull could do about it. Fine. He’d put it on the back burner. He shifted Caim higher to a more comfortable position, prompting an unintelligible murmur and half-hearted attempt at a kiss from the elf. He rubbed his back absently in response. Dorian shook his head, a crooked smile on his handsome face.

“You have to admit, it is cute. Almost disgustingly domestic,” he said, setting his ale aside to rest his hand on his fist. “If we ever need to trick him into getting some rest, we should remember this.”

Bull looked at him. “Are you suggesting we drug our Inquisitor and lover if he starts working himself too hard again?” he asked mildly.

Dorian just shrugged, greatly unconcerned. “You were already considering it,” he replied.

Frowning because _yes_ he had thought that, Bull set his drink down. Was he getting predictable? That was annoying. “He probably wouldn’t go with it,” he admitted. “Stubborn.

“‘M _not_ ,” slurred the elf himself, apparently not as out of it as Bull’d thought. Caim tilted his head back just enough to give what was _probably_ supposed to be an offended look. Dorian covered his mouth with his hand, but Bull could see the way his eyes crinkled with a grin.

“Yeah you are, Fox,” Bull said, patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s a good thing.” This seemed to mollify Caim, who mumbled something elven and proceeded to curl into a tighter ball, pressing his cheek against Bull’s shoulder. Apparently the leather strap and buckle wasn’t much of an obstacle, though the imprint on his face would be interesting later.

Dorian made a noise that was suspiciously close to a snort. Bull threw a minor glare at him, but Dorian just smiled with great serenity. “We really ought to look into a lexicon or two if you do this often enough,” he remarked, leaning over to kiss Caim’s exposed cheek. Or at least, that’s what Bull assumed he was aiming for. Caim turned his head at just the right moment to meet the kiss with his lips. Dorian raised a well-manicured eyebrow as Caim giggled, grinning broadly.

“Well played, darling.” Dorian rolled his eyes and kissed Caim again before returning to his original position. Caim seemed pretty pleased with himself. Even completely addled, he still had some moves. Bull filed that away for later.

“I _like_ you,” Caim crooned in answer, reaching out to tug Dorian back with a fluttering wave of his hand. Dorian relented with an indulgent shake of his head, leaning against Bull. “I _lii- iike_ you!” His hand smacked limply against Bull’s arm as he hiccuped. Bull reached over to grip his wrist before he knocked something over.

“We like you too, _kadan,_ ” he said softly. Caim sighed happily, and as though someone threw a switch, he was out. Bull thought it’d be impressive if it weren’t a sign of just how drunk he was. Caim was going to have one hell of a hangover later.

“I do not envy him for tomorrow,” Dorian said, echoing his thought. He rested a hand on Bull’s forearm. Silence reigned between for a long moment; the sitting room’s crackling fire and Caim’s soft snores the only things stirring the air. Dorian’s head joined his hand, and Bull smiled down at him. It was rare to see both his lovers so relaxed at the same time. Maybe Caim wasn’t the only one who’d needed this vacation. They’d have to get back to work soon, but…

“This is good,” he finished the thought aloud. Dorian looked up at him with a question in his dark eyes, and Bull tried to elaborate. “Just… This,” he said, gesturing as best he could without waking Caim up. Though likely the elf would sleep through an invasion at this point. “Us, all together. Not dead or enemies.” _That_ was a rough thought… As painful as a future of possible savagery was? A future where he’d have to betray these men was even worse.

“Ah,” Dorian said, nodding as though he understood what Bull meant. Which… He very well could. The mage was more intuitive than he let people know. He knew just as well as Bull did that the slightest shift in decisions could have altered their chances for this happiness. “We did rather luck out, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.” Bull wrapped his arm around Dorian and hugged him as best he could with an elf in the way. “We kinda did.” He sighed with great content, soaking in the fact that despite the odd twists and turns his life had taken, he’d made it to this point. Not that it’d been a goal, but _damn_ if it wasn’t some sort of miracle of accomplishment. 

Bull cleared his throat, mindful that he wasn’t the best at the sticky, sappy stuff. Though, considering his company... “Dorian?”

“Yes, _amatus_?” 

“... I love you.”

Dorian huffed and smiled at him, for once free of all cynicism and dry wit. He stretched up to press his lips to kiss his cheek. “I love you too, Bull. Sorry this evening didn’t go quite as you planned.”

“There’ll be time later,” Bull admitted. All things considered? He wasn’t quite as put out as he thought he’d be. Not with the comforting heat in his arms and Dorian’s fond smile keeping him grounded and fulfilled. “What do you say we get Cuddles here to bed?”

“I’d say that’s a good plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest I didn't know how to end this one. 
> 
> I think there'll be one more chapter officially? But I may add to it later. Or just do one-shots.
> 
> Thanks to trashacolypse for being the best at encouraging and everything!
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!


	7. Day Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian an Bull ensure that Caim's last day of vacation is one to remember.

“Comfortable, Fox?”

Caim took a deep breath and nodded, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against Bull’s shoulder. Once more, he was seated on the large Qunari’s lap, though perhaps seated was the wrong word. Speared, more like. His hair clung to the back of his neck with sweat, and his face was already flushed and his hands clamped tightly on the backs of Bull’s shoulders. Bull had taken his damned sweet time to put Caim into this position. Caim was already plotting his revenge for next time.

“We can take a breather if you like,” Dorian said from somewhere in front of him. There was a hint of teasing in his voice, and when Caim opened an eye to glare at him, the man simply grinned and kissed his forehead. “Don’t pout. You’re in good hands!” As if to demonstrate, slender, elegant fingers brushed down his chest to briefly meet his cock with the lightest of touches. Caim squirmed, his soft whimper gaining a whining edge as he felt Bull anchoring him in place.

“At… At some point,” he said as he dug his fingers into the back of Bull’s shoulders, “One of you is going to be in the middle, and it is going to be _delightf_ \- Bull, _please_!” He moved a hand to cover his mouth as Bull cupped his chest and squeezed _hard._

Bull cleared his throat, and both he and Dorian stilled. “Hands, Fox.” Caim resisted for one long moment, but it was a losing battle and he knew it. He returned his hand to its former position on Bull’s shoulder behind him with a huff of frustration. Bull patted his chest in approval. “That’s better. Now what were you saying?”

Caim shot him a half-hearted glare, keenly aware that he was at a severe disadvantage. “I am going to remember this. And someday it’ll be your turn.”

“Oh I do hope so. It’d be a shame if you forgot about all of this period,” Dorian remarked, leaning forward to capture Caim’s lips. It was almost soothing in its intensity, which made it all the more cruel when Bull took advantage of Caim’s distraction and tweaked his nipple. Caim yelped and craned his head back to glare at Bull. It was pointless to try to shame him, but he tried anyways. 

Bull just laughed in his face and stole a kiss for himself. Caim found it much harder to maintain the glare.

“You two do make quite a picture,” Dorian sighed, shuffling up to kneel between Bull’s knees. “Really, it’s like a work of art.”

“It’d be a masterpiece if you’d actually _do_ something,” Caim grumbled. He was perfectly aware that the statement made no sense, but he felt as though he’d been very patient. Dorian clucked his tongue and shook his head.

“Patience, Fox,” he said unhelpfully with a smirk that made Caim melt from the inside out. “It’s our last day here, and we plan on taking the _very_ best care of you.” He trailed his fingers in a lazy circle on Caim’s thigh.

“Dorian!” Caim whined, fully aware he was pouting and equally aware that he couldn’t help it. Dorian and Bull both chuckled and exchanged a look, but since Dorian _finally_ moved himself into position, Caim decided to ignore it.

Especially since he had no more room for thoughts of any sort once Dorian began sinking onto his painfully erect cock. He threw his head back with a lascivious groan and held Bull’s shoulders with a grip that would’ve bruised anyone else. 

Bull laughed low in his ear, taking the tip between his teeth. “Better?” he asked softly. Caim nodded and whimpered in answer.

“Mm…” Dorian grinned down at him, looking like the cat who got into the cream. He shifted on Caim’s lap, wringing a weak whine from the elf. “I know I certainly prefer this.”

Caim closed his eyes again, forcing himself to take a deep breath and relaxed against Bull. These two were going to be the death of him, and at that moment, it seemed like a heavenly way to go. He could just imagine Varric’s recounting of his climactic demise. “And so the Herald’s heart gave out as he was surrounded by the two sexiest men in all of Thedas.”

The moment hung between the three of them in stillness, Dorian and Bull both allowing their hapless lover to prepare himself. 

“Are you ready?” Dorian asked, his voice low and close, his lips brushing against Caim’s. 

“Yes… Please…”

“Tell us the rules first,” Bull said in his ear, serious and loving all at once.

Caim sighed, telling himself to focus. This part was important. “Keep… Keep my hands on you,” he said breathlessly against Dorian’s lips. “Don’t come until you say.”

“Good, Fox. And the word if you need to stop?”

“Kah...Katoh.”

“Good.” Bull’s approval rumbled all the way through Caim’s bones, and his large hands gently played about his chest. “Dorian, if you would…?”

Dorian hummed in agreement and leaned over Caim’s shoulder to kiss Bull. “Gladly,” he murmured.

And he began to move. 

Caim threw his head back with a choked moan, and his world became a blur of sensation and pleasure and his lovers below and above him, driving him closer and closer to blissful oblivion. Their hands seemed everywhere at once, soothing his feverish skin.

This was the part that was going to kill him, he realized dizzily. Between Bull’s cock and Dorian’s ass, he was going to explode trying to keep himself from finishing before he was allowed. His hands slipped on Bull’s shoulders, slick with sweat as he fought to keep his grip. 

“Easy,” Dorian whispered above him, brushing his fingers through Caim’s damp hair. “We’ve got you. We won’t-- Oh!” He shook on top of Caim with a lovely, trembling groan that dragged an echo from Caim.

“You good?” Bull asked. Caim could practically hear the grin he surely had. 

“Never better,” Dorian answered, sounding as relaxed as if he were simply lounging. Caim envied his composure. Caim felt as though he was two steps from simply combusting.

He couldn’t say how long they were there entwined. His focus was completely set on clinging to Bull and keeping himself from breaking. 

After an eternity of the most delightful hell Caim had ever experienced, Dorian cried out, his seed splattering Caim’s stomach and his ass clenching on his poor cock. Caim gasped, shuddering as he fought to stave off his own climax.

“Please!” he begged, gasping for air. “I need… Just let me…!”

Bull said something over his head, the meaning slipping out of reach, and he heard Dorian laugh in response. Caim nearly sobbed as Dorian slid off his lap, cool air stinging his aching cock for a moment before plump lips kissed the tip. Caim twisted with a mewl. 

“Just a little longer,” Bull whispered in his ear. “Hold on. Dorian, go ahead.”

Dorian chuckled and sucked Caim down with one smooth pull. 

“Now,” Bull breathed. “Come.”

Caim needed no other encouragement, his release screamed through him with a torrential fury, heat searing his entire body as he came down the back of Dorian’s throat. He cried out, limbs quaking as he was caught in a rictus of orgasm. 

When the storm finally passed, he sagged against Bull, hands falling limp to his sides as he slipped into a haze. Dorian’s glorious mouth moved away, and strong hands lifted him off Bull’s cock and pulled him into a warm embrace. A grunt sounded behind him, and something warm splashed against his chest and stomach.

“There you go,” Dorian said softly from somewhere above his head, his voice echoing in the sightless fog. Bull said something in answer, and Caim found himself lowered to the bed. 

He tried to say a thank you as someone wiped a rag down his sore, sated body, but it came out more garbled than he’d hoped. Bull hummed and patted his shoulder before pulling him into his lap once more. Caim curled into a ball, burrowing himself under those huge, safe arms, sighing as Dorian slipped up to hold him from his other side.

“Good?” a whisper asked with lips brushing his still flushed cheek. 

“Good,” Caim slurred, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. The smile stayed even as he drifted down into sleep, pleased and surrounded by love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S DONE AND NOW I CAN MOVE ON
> 
> Sorry this took so long! I suddenly forgot how to write smut.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only chapter that will be this long. Though I am saying that _now_ and could be very wrong.
> 
> Gavin Lavellan is trashacolypse's Inquisitor and Caim's cousin in this verse. We will see him later and he is _fabulous._
> 
> Special thanks to my beta and partner trashacolypse!


End file.
